


Hazard!

by justme (silver_spring)



Series: Shorties and Ficlets [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: #ficletfireworks, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, It's all fun and games, game show, until the final question
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28461465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_spring/pseuds/justme
Summary: Brienne is in need of some cash and participates in a game show. Guess who one of her opponents is.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Shorties and Ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084244
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	Hazard!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DanyelN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanyelN/gifts).



> This one was a birthday present for DanyelN. Last year. I think.

Brienne was nervous. They were about to start taping any minute now and already she could tell that all the people that had said how much easier it was to know game show answers from the safety of one's own couch were right. Her hands were clammy, her throat was dry and her heart was trying to beat right out of her chest. She would've loved to be anywhere but here right now, anywhere, even at the wall or on another blind date from hell set up by her father, but she had to see this through. Not only would the producers try to eat her alive if she tried to back out now and probably slap a hefty fine on her, but she also had to try and put all the useless trivia knowledge collected over the span of 25 years of life as a book worm to use and win some money. Not for herself, but for the kids from the youth center she and her friend Margaery were volunteering at. Donations were scarce, they were always fighting with the bureaus to get the bare necessities and Winterfest was drawing close. Those children, who all came from poor families, deserved something nice. Unfortunately, Brienne was about as broke as the youth center and although she'd tried a few times to help collect donations, she just was not good at the ass-kissing that often involved. And so she and Margaery had come up with this idea after binge-watching 10 episodes of _Hazard!_ and two bottles of Hippocras. They both took the online test the next morning, and while Margaery had never heard back from the production company, Brienne had apparently qualified for the next round in the elimination process of possible candidates. She had been quite shocked, Margaery had cheered, declared herself Brienne's personal coach and that had prevented Brienne from following her first instinct which was to politely decline. Three elimination rounds and a few weeks later, she was here on the WBC lot, waiting for her turn to give answers in the form of a question. And the waiting was unnerving. She had been asked to come in at 9 sharp, so she had arrived around 8:30, just to be safe. It was now 1:53 in the afternoon and Margaery had been told to go sit in the audience upon their arrival, so Brienne, after a short stay in the make-up and hair department, had had a lot of time with nothing but her thoughts for company. Sure, there were some of the other contestants in her waiting room as well, but they were focused on some last-minute studying of odd facts and celebrity gossip. Besides, Brienne had never had an easy time just talking up and chatting with strangers. Which was another reason to already dread the smalltalk segment during the first round. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants again, just as the door opened and the assistant with the clipboard and the headset that had fetched one or two of them at a time for the tapings came in.

"Brienne Tarth?"  
"Yes? I mean, here. I mean..that's me." She stammered.  
"You're in the next round. Follow me?" The assistant pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, giving her a bored and fake smile. Brienne got up and followed him to the stage area.  
"If you need the bathroom, you better go now; we won't stop taping because you have a weak bladder. We're already running late as it is."  
"I'm good."  
Assistant guy gave her a once over.  
"You don't look good. You have been to make-up, right?"  
"Yes...of course."

And the make-up artist had done her best. It just so happened that Brienne's face wasn't the best canvas to begin with.

"Hmm." He looked at her doubtfully and brought his headset closer to his mouth. "Ros? Touch up."  
Seconds after, the red-headed make-up artist appeared out of nowhere with something that looked like a tackle box, but turned out to be some kind of make-up emergency kit.  
"You rang?" She asked.  
"She's starting to get shiny. And why is she so blotchy?"  
"Relax Olyvar. She's not blotchy, she's blushing. It's nature's rouge," Ros calmly replied while powdering Brienne's forehead and cheeks. She smiled and winked at her before coninuing in the assistant's direction. "Probably because you're being an insensitive dick again that can't grasp that not everyone is on a tv set every day. It'll go away." With a wink at Brienne she concluded: "Don't worry: You'll be fine, honey."

Brienne had her serious doubts about that. Her blushes had a history of making unexpected appearances and then overstaying their welcome. She wasn't going to say anything, though, lest she be subjected to even more foundation, cremes and powders. The stuff already felt foreign on her skin even though, looking into the mirror after Ros' earlier sorcery, it looked better than it felt. Although that didn't say much.

"There. All done." Ros declared and put her powder puff away again as Olyvar was already beginning to shoo Brienne onto the stage.  
"Middle console. Pick up the pen, write your name so we can project it on the monitor." He instructed, pointing again. Nodding, Brienne walked up to it, got behind the desk and wrote her name in big letters. Then she took a look around at the famous video wall where the clues would pop up, the host's console and finally, her opponents. To her left, a man probably around her age and looking about as nervous as she felt was fiddling with his clicking device.

"'Sup?" He greeted once he realized Brienne was looking at him.  
Brienne nodded back at him.  
"Hi. Good luck."  
"Thanks!" He beamed back at her, pushing some stray black curls out of his face, "You too!"

Turning to her right, Brienne found herself looking at the most handsome man she'd ever seen this close. Even the slight sneer he looked at her with didn't take away from his blonde-haired, green-eyed muscled beauty.

"So you're my next victim?" He asked, a smirk on his face.  
"What?"  
"But of course, you're right, I should've said What is my next victim?"  
"I am n--" Brienne began as Olyvar shouted from backstage that they would begin in 10 seconds.  
"That's right, it's you. Let's stick with the category. I'll take Giants for 2000."  
"Do not call me a giant! My name is--"  
"5, 4, 3, quiet on set!"  
The music began to play and the announcer started in his overly cheery voice with the introductions. Brienne quickly assumed the position she had been told to during the run-through, preparing to smile like it was no big deal being here and knowing already she would fail at that. Everything was intimidating!  
_"This is Hazard! Here are today's contestants: A Night's Watch officer, originally from Winterfell, Jon Snow. A grad student from King's Landing, Brienne Tarth. Aaand our returning champion, a High School English teacher, originally from Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister, whose 4 day cash winnings total 24,934 dragons! And now, here is the host of Hazard!, Petyr Baelish!"_

Baelish, who had also the nickname Littlefinger since the emergence of very unflattering pictures of him on a nudist beach some years ago, came walking out from behind the video wall, a sleazy grin on his face. Having him replace the old host Stannis Baratheon was still something that irked Brienne on a regular basis. She hadn't liked Stannis very much either, but at least he'd always conducted himself appropriately, never resorted to innuendos and didn't make viewers feel like a shower was in order after watching him for a prolonged time.

"Thank you, G.M. Pycelle! Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! This week is shaping up very handsomely for Hazard! winners, case in point: Jaime picking up close to 10,000 dragons yesterday. Hopefully one of you three will wind up winning even more money today! Let's find out, here come the categories if you'd like to Hazard! a guess!"

He walked to his podium as the wall lit up with the different tiles and the various amounts of money the clue behind them was worth.  
"And here are the categories: Westeros Football League, Kings & Queens, Mythical anagrams, Varys Award winners, Pies and Enology. Champion, start us off!"

A decent mix. Brienne knew that she was not going to do well in the football category, and her knowledge about wine was not all that big either, but the rest was okay. If Kings & Queens was indeed about history, that was going to be her category. Provided she didn't freeze of course.

"Let's have Football league for 200, Petyr," Jaime decided.  
The clue opened and Baelish began to read it out.  
"Winning 7 championships in 10 years, this team ruled the 70s only to be relegated to second division in the 80s."  
She had no idea whatsoever, but the two guys to her sides tried their best to ring in fastest.  
"Jaime?"  
"Who are the Oldtown Ocelots."  
"Correct! Pick again."  
"Same category, 400."

And it continued that way. Jaime cleared out the category, quickly collecting a total of 3,000 dragons whereas Brienne and Jon both had a big fat zero, although Jon had at least tried to ring in while she had had no clue. This wasn't off to a promising start. At least the daily double hadn't been in the football column, that was something.

"You know your football, Jaime," Baelish praised, "where to next?"  
"Let's try Varys Award Winners for 200."  
"This movie of the year raised protests from animal rights groups over ethical treatment of species involved. Spoiler alert: No one stepped on their toes..*click* Jon?"  
"What is Direwolf Creek?"  
"Sorry, that is incorrect. You're at -200.."  
Feeling her heart thrum in her ears, Brienne took the plunge and pressed her button. It was one of Margaery's favorite movies.  
"Brienne?"  
"What is Dances with Direwolves?"  
"You're on the board! Pick again!"

She decided to switch categories and try to go for what she probably knew most of.  
"Kings & Queens for 200, please."  
"The Realm's delight."  
She and Jaime tried to click in, but Brienne was faster. Good!  
"Who was Rhaenyra Targaryen."  
"Correct."  
"400."  
"The hungry wolf."  
Oh, she had this.  
"Who was Theon I."  
"You got it."  
"Kings & Queens, 600."  
"He loved the sea so much that he attempted to sail across the Sunset Sea and was never seen again."  
It was almost too easy.  
"Who was Bran the shipwright."  
"Correct."  
"Kings 800."  
"According to legend, he married the daughter of the Sea God."  
Brienne clicked, but it was Jon's desk that lit up.  
"Who was Greyjoy."  
"Sorry, that is incorrect. Anyone else? *click* Brienne?"  
"Who was Durran."  
"Durran is the correct answer."  
"Finish the category."  
"This title was wielded by House Bolton when they reigned as kings in the east of what now is the north...*click* Jon."  
"Who are the flayed men?"  
"Sorry Jon. That was House Bolton's sigil. You're at -2000 now, that's a deep hole. *click* Jaime?"  
"Who were the Red Kings."  
"That is the correct answer! Pick again."

Damn. Brienne had known that one as well, but hadn't been fast enough. Jaime was now up to 4,000 dragons, but her 1,600 were a good basis. Jon definitely had to be careful from here on out, lest he dug himself in a hole too deep to get out of again. He would probably only try to ring in if he was certain of an answer.  
"Varys Award Winners 400."  
And they were back to the movies. As she had guessed, Jon kept his thumb away from his signalling device and so this category and the next, Mythical anagrams, turned into a competition between her and Jaime. She got 5 out of the 9 clues, Jaime the other 4, but one of them was wrong.

She was just about to pick again, when Baelish announced what would later be the commercial break.  
"Five minutes!" Olyvar shouted from backstage. Baelish immediately pulled his phone out of his pocket and started fiddling with that, totally uninterested in everything else around him. Brienne took a deep breath. After the break would come the smalltalk segment.

"You're not half bad."  
Looking to the side, she saw Jaime giving her a grin.  
"Don't look at me like I just declared the long night was coming back. Truly, you know your stuff. I can acknowledge that. I'm still going to win, though."  
What an arrogant ass!  
"Maybe Jon is going to beat us both."  
"You don't really believe that, do you? He knows nothing. I'm wondering how he got selected for the show."  
"Maybe he'll like the next categories better."  
"No, I think this one is going down between you and me, giant."  
"Stop calling me that!"  
"Why? Does it unnerve you?"  
"I...yes!"  
"Good."  
"You are the most irr--" She began, but Margaery's voice interrupted her.  
"Brienne! You're doing great!" She exclaimed, having snuck onto the stage.  
"Thanks, Margie."  
"You have this, girl. Just relax, let your brain do its thing and the kids at the center will get super winterfest presents, I know it!"  
"The show's not even halfway done," Brienne cautioned, "the categories might be tough."  
"Pish-posh, you're the smartest person I know and even if it's not the biggest payday, together with my bake sale it'll surely be enough for the little ones."

That..actually helped calm Brienne a little. She wasn't here to make tons of money, she just needed enough to make some Winterfest wishes come true. Although the thought of having to come back for a second taping in case she became the new champion was kind of abhorrent to her.  
"You! You're not supposed to be here!" Olyvar with the clipboard shouted, pointing his finger at Margaery, beginning to make his way over.  
"Ooops!" Margie grinned, gave Brienne a wink and another 'You got this!' and hurried back to her seat before Olyvar could reach them.  
"So, you're already planning on giving your potential winnings away?" Jaime asked from the side.  
"My friend and I work at the Youth Center in Flea Bottom, and money's tight around there, so we thought it might be worth a shot coming here in order to win enough to make some kids happy come Winterfest. Trust me, I would not be here if there were other options to raise the funds in time."  
"Hmm."  
"What?"  
"Nothing," Jaime replied quickly, seeming somewhat distracted, "Best of luck, Brienne."  
"I...thanks?"

No smartass remark, no mockery and he hadn't called her giantess? Brienne looked at him incredulously. Jaime calmly stood there, an amused expression on his face.  
"I'm not always a dick. It's an honorable cause, your reason for being here. You can close your mouth again."

Brienne did that just in time for Olyvar to announce that the taping was going to continue. Baelish had put his cell away, walked over to Jon Snow's desk and looked, for all intents and purposes, like he was genuinely interested in them and the show again. The theme music played and he re-introduced the black-haired contestant, asking him about some anecdote including his girlfriend and a paintball match that ended with him proposing and her accidentally shooting him as a reaction. The audience laughed in the appropriate places and Baelish made a lame joke about protection on his wedding day and then he sauntered over to her desk.

"Brienne Tarth is a history student from King's Landing who once found herself experiencing a little more history than she'd asked for. What happened?"  
"Uh..I was in Harrenhal and they have an ancient bearpit there," Brienne began the short anecdote she'd been asked to share. "There was a live bear on the premises that day for a photoshoot and he broke out of his gate while I was in the pit, taking pictures."  
"He must've mistaken you for a photographer. Did you take his picture?"  
"I did snap one later, once I was safely out of his way. He apparently has an array of poses he models."  
"Sounds bear-y exciting," Littlefinger quipped and got a few chuckles from the audience for it, before he walked on the next podium and Brienne breathed a deep breath of relief over that being over and done with. Jaime had a little story about the one time he'd ridden a horse up a staircase, and then it was time to continue the game.

"Alright, let's get back into this, Brienne you have command of the board."  
With the only categories left being pies and wine, Brienne chose pies. A smart choice as it turned out, because not only did she get the next three clues, she also got the daily double.  
"You have 3,200 dragons, how much are you betting?"  
"1,000 please, Petyr," Brienne decided, not wanting to risk too much.  
"The place where the infamous Rat Cook served prince-and-bacon pie."  
Brienne let a small smile draw up the corners of her mouth. It was historic lore and she knew the answer.  
"What is the Nightfort?"  
"You are absolutely correct and you stand now at 4,200 dragons! Pick again."

Brienne cleaned out the pie category and then held back when wine was the only one left, because the low-priced Hippocras she and Margaery sometimes drank probably wasn't going to be asked about. Jon Snow managed to get out a little from the hole he'd dug himself in, but was still in the negative by the time the round was finished. Baelish made a short transition for the tv airing, but there wasn't another break before they continued with round 2.

"We have an exciting game on our hands, ladies and gentlemen. By 500 dragons only, Jaime is in the lead and Brienne is hot on his tail. Jon will start us off and here are the categories for double Hazard! Essosi culture, The North remembers, Hey! That's my sword, Home remedies, High Valyrian and Music of the 70s. Take your pick, Jon!"  
"The North remembers for 400, please."

A perfect category for a man from Winterfell and Jon cleaned it out completely, finally getting rid of the minus in front of his score. Unfortunately, starting the High Valyrian category, he then found the first of the two doubles in this round, wagered everything but 100 dragons and blanked when it came to the answer. He switched to the Essos category and Jaime clicked faster on his device than Brienne did to answer the question about Braavos.  
"I'll take Hey! That's my sword for 400."  
"Wielded by Aegon the Conqueror."  
"What is Blackfyre?"  
"Correct, Jaime. Pick again."  
"Swords, 800."  
"It belonged to a corsair before Dalton Greyjoy got his hands on it."  
Jaime clicked repeatedly on his device, but Brienne was faster.  
"What is Nightfall?"  
"Indeed it was. Brienne, your choice."  
"Hey! That's my sword for 1200, please."  
"Visenya Targaryen wielded it against Dornish assassins."  
Seeing that she once more had been faster than Jaime made Brienne smile a little to herself before she answered.  
"What is Dark Sister?"  
"Good! Pick again."  
"Swords for 1600, please."  
"After her brother's death, it was delivered to Ashara Dayne."  
Brienne clicked and clicked, but it was Jaime's light that went on. He threw her a quick grin before turning to face Baelish.  
"What is Dawn?"  
"Belonging to the Sword of the morning, that is correct. Take your pick, Jaime."  
"Swords for 2000."  
"A gift from the Gods to the perfect knight."  
Jaime hesitated a moment, thinking, and Brienne used the second it took him to come up with the answer. She'd known it immediately, always having loved the story of Galldon of Morne.  
"Brienne?"  
"What is the Just Maid."  
"Correct, that's 2,000 dragons for you, but we're out of swords. Pick a new category."  
"High Valyrian for 400, please."

And so it continued. Brienne and Jaime chased each other around the board, picking up money as they went. He did find the second double in the round within the music category, but he wagered conservatively and only picked up an additional 400 dragons when he answered correctly. By the time the last clue had been read and the round was over, Jaime's lead over her had melted down to 100 dragons. Jon Snow had managed to hold on to his 100 and was going to be a part of final Hazard! together with them, but unless they both blew it and wagered daringly, he stood no chance at winning.

"Look at those scores, one of you might win some serious money. It comes down to your knowledge about..," Baelish trailed off, and the category revealed itself, "..Dorne."

Dorne had never been the most exciting topic for Brienne, but she knew some things. Now she only had to actually know the needed bit. She paused before making her wager. Jaime was 100 dragons ahead, so he probably wasn't going to wager everything he had, just enough to have at least 1 dragon more than her even if she risked it all. Not having come up with the answer yet, Brienne didn't really want to make a daring wager, but somehow she had the feeling that now, it being the last clue, he wouldn't hold back. With a slight tremble in her hand, even though for now it was only hypothetical money, Brienne went all in, praying she'd come up with the answer in time.

Baelish read the clue out loud, after making sure the wagers had been placed and wished them good luck. 

_'Assuring her new husband that she wasn't going to make a break for it and sail back to Essos, Princess Nymeria of the Rhoynar burnt her fleet consisting of this many ships.'_

Then the thinking music began to play.

Brienne chewed on her lip, racking her brain for the answer. Nymeria's war, her wedding to Mors Martell, the ships...tidbit upon tidbit of Dornish history flew through her mind, the most mundane of factoids, but it was just before the music stopped that she wrote down a number.

"Alright, time's up and we start with Jon Snow who had a tough go of it for the majority of the game. Jon, what's your number?"  
Looking at Jon's monitor, Baelish read aloud.  
"What is 10,000? That..is correct! How much did you wager?"  
Jon said something, but Brienne didn't pay attention. She heard the blood rush in her ears and had a prickling sensation down her spine. 10,000 ships.  
"We move on to our history student, Brienne Tarth. Brienne, what number did you put down?"  
Brienne smiled as the monitor revealed that she too had written 10,000 in bold numbers.  
"You are of course also correct, Brienne, well done! Now, let's see how much you'll be adding to your score....wow! 9,700 dragons, bringing you up to 19,400! That is very impressive and there's only one answer standing in your way of becoming our new champion. We're going to Jaime Lannister to find out. Jaime, what did you put down?"  
The monitor revealed Jaime's answer and there was an 'oooh' going through the audience.  
"777. I'm sorry, but that is incorrect Jaime and your reign will end today. How much will you be losing...9,599. Ouch. You're finishing in second place, with one dragon over Jon, but we have a new champion, Brienne Tarth!"

The audience clapped loudly and Brienne thought she could hear Margaery whooping, but it was all a bit of a blur as Baelish said his goodbyes and reminded everyone to tune back in tomorrow when Brienne would try to defend her title. She had won! She had won the whole show and a huge amount of money! It was almost unbelievable. The music played as the contestants stepped out from behind their desks. Baelish shook everyone's hand, stopping for a moment next to Brienne for a photo and then briskly walked off the stage to change for the next taping.

"Congrats, you rocked!" Jon Snow smiled at her.  
"Thanks!" Brienne beamed back at him, still trying to come to terms with the fact that she'd won. As he clapped her on the shoulder, Brienne saw out of the corner of her eye a dwarf walk up to Jaime.

"You knew that! I know that you knew that. We studied Dorne!" He exclaimed.  
"I guess I forgot. Happens. Sorry," Jaime shrugged. The other guy waved it off.  
"Eh, who can blame you? It's Dorne."  
"I still won our bet though, little brother."  
"Yeah yeah. You made more than 25 grand on hazard!, and I'm a man of my word. I will come to father's stupid Winterfest dinner."  
"And?"  
"And I will be a buffer in case he nags at you because of your preferred profession again."  
"Thank you."  
"Still can't believe you didn't get that answer. You even said burning 10,000 ships is probably what drove the sharks away from the Dornish coasts."  
"Still can't believe you even helped me study when you knew the stakes of our bet."  
"'Tis the season of goodwill."

What Jaime replied to that, Brienne didn't get because Margaery chose that moment to practically launch herself at her.

"Oh my Gods, Brienne! Congratulations! 19,000 dragons! What are you going to do with that much money?"  
"We're going to buy a lot of presents, and then...I don't know."  
"You can pay half of your tuition with the leftovers. And win the other half later today."  
"We'll see about that."  
"I'll go get your other outfit from the car, be right back, champ!"

Margaery hugged her again, squeezing much harder than you'd think a person of her petite stature would be able to, and flitted off to retrieve the other sweater Brienne had brought as requested by the production team.

"15 minute break!" Olyvar shouted somewhere to her right, and Brienne could already see Ros and her tackle box of make-up standing to the side of the stage, ready for another touch up.  
"Well played," Jaime's voice said from behind her and Brienne whirled around.  
"Thank you. It was a great match."  
"It was indeed. Until the formation of house Nymeros Martell bit me in the ass. Mors Martell must've been quite a guy if Nymeria was willing to barbecue 10,000 ships for him, but she did declare him Prince of Dorne afterwards, so maybe he was all that."

Brienne narrowed her eyes. He knew all that, but not the number of ships?

"You threw the final answer, didn't you?" She asked, although it was more of a statement.  
"Don't know what you're talking about," Jaime replied, but then he winked at her. "I guess those kids you're taking care of will have a great Winterfest now, hmm?"  
"I...yes. Yes, they will. Thank you."  
"Sure."  
"Although..." Brienne began. With the way he'd taunted her earlier, he kind of deserved a little good-natured payback in spite of doing a very nice thing. He'd called her a giant, after all. "With your wager, I still would've won even if you'd put down the right answer."  
"I didn't know you'd know it, and I had to make sure to stay ahead of our little Northern airhead."  
"Still, I hardly was, as you called it, your next victim."  
"True, but I pulled some punches..if you want to find out who's truly better when we're both going for it, we'd need to have a rematch."  
"A rematch?" Brienne's ears perked up. While she was grateful for her win, no matter how it had come about, she was a competitive person and wanted to win fair and square because she was the best.  
"Yup. We could go for coffee and bombard each other with questions from the Hazard! app."  
"I--"  
"Excuse me?" Ros, the make-up artist chimed in. "I need to freshen up your face now, sweetie."  
"Oh, sure. Sorry. I'll be right there," Brienne said. Turning back to Jaime she picked up what she'd wanted to say.  
"Okay, you can have your rematch. Coffee is on me. What do you say?"  
"In the spirit of Hazard! I'll answer in form of a question and say: What is a date?"  
"A d-a date?!" Brienne spluttered.  
"A date," Jaime affirmed. "Now go, win the next game and make some more cash, because I'll want pie with my coffee. I'll find you afterwards."

He winked at her again, nodded his goodbye to Ros who was still waiting patiently to the side and sauntered off to take a seat in the audience, leaving Brienne standing there, a bit stunned over the fact that she apparently had a date later tonight. This had been an exciting day so far, and if she'd had to _hazard_ a guess, the night would be anything but boring either..

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
